


A Marcher in Snow

by kawakaeguri



Series: Rylen Appreciation Week 2/2018 [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawakaeguri/pseuds/kawakaeguri
Summary: Day 2 of Rylen Appreciation Week- Rylen and Inquisition.In which, Rylen hates snow.





	A Marcher in Snow

_Blasted cold. Bloody snow_. Of all the places in Thedas, even in Ferelden, and they had to hold the Conclave here? Gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering, Rylen scowled behind his Commander’s back, envious of the blonde man’s ease with the frigid temperature. “Commander,” he managed to nod almost smoothly.

“Lieutenant,” Cullen turned to acknowledge his second. “Cold?”

“Nothing a morning run won’t cure.” Rylen attempted a cheerful smile, but it ended up being more like a grim rictus.

With a wry grin, Cullen clapped the other man on his shoulder. “It’ll get better.”

“That’s what you said when I first got here. No offense, Commander, but I think you’re full of shit.” 

The Commander’s ringing laugh made several of the nearby recruits jump in shock, whispers quickly floating through the ranks at the sight of the stoic former templar, _laughing_. “Not my fault you Marchers have thin blood,” he shrugged. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rylen sighed. “Alright men, two lines! Ten laps around the lake.” Taking his place at the front of the double column, the Knight-Captain lead the procession with an easy pace, mindful of the softness of the ones he now led and the thin mountain air. Farmers, blacksmiths, merchants, the lot of them. Most had never held a sword in their life, but when the call came for soldiers for the newly formed Inquisition, they answered, a trickle at first, but as the Herald moved through Ferelden, offering her aid to the refugees stranded by the fighting, they began to appear in droves. Rylen respected that. It wasn’t easy to leave the life you were accustomed to behind. Maker knew that he himself had been uncertain to leave Starkhaven, but there were some things a man just knew was the right thing to do.

And helping to save the world was definitely the right thing to do. Being a templar had always given him a sense of direction in life since he had joined as a young lad, but this? Being part of the Inquisition was so much more. Here, he had a chance to help fix the mistakes of his Order, rewrite the future, make it better for the generations to come, fulfill his oath to protect and serve the way he was meant to. Plus, he enjoyed training the recruits. It was always more enjoyable to spend his days with a sword and shield in his hands rather than be hunched over paperwork. Even if it did involve being outside in this damnable weather.

Back in his tent, Rylen almost frantically peeled off his sweaty tunic, his breath fogging and his skin icing over in the dim, frosty light, exchanging it for a clean shirt before donning his training armor, leather instead of heavy plate. He still wasn’t quite used to the lighter weight yet, his center of gravity ever so slightly off balance after so many years of living in the standard issue of the templars. Thank the Maker he was a skilled enough warrior to hide it from his own men at least. The only two people who had noticed his tiny fumbles so far were Cullen, and the formidable Seeker, Cassandra. Cullen, at least, sympathized with his second, whereas the Seeker had flat out asked the Commander, ignoring the fact that Rylen was standing less than two feet away, if he was sure that the Knight-Captain was the suitable decision for his second-in-command after watching the Starkhaven man overshoot his thrust and lurch into the snow. It was then Rylen thanked the Maker for his level head, otherwise, he would have definitely retorted something that would have brought both himself and his superior embarrassment. 

Time, that’s all he needed. Time to prove himself, both to the attractive Seeker and the Herald, the latter of which was due back today from the Storm Coast. The diminutive mage’s expected arrival was most definitely the source of Cullen’s ire today, Rylen mused. Standing across the field, he watched as the Commander strode along the ranks, barking out corrections and reprimands in a sharper tone than he had ever heard from the man before, one hand sneaking up to rub at his temples occasionally. _Headache. He’s been getting more of those lately, and I daresay Evelyn Trevelyan’s return isn’t going to improve his mood._ Rylen rather liked the spunky Herald, her sharp wit and grounded attitude, but apparently her military advisor did not share his second’s opinion. When the two were together, they were no longer Commander and Herald, but mage and templar. It was… interesting, Rylen grinned to himself, to see how well she had dug herself under Cullen’s skin. 

“Martin, is it?” Bending over, he retrieved a fallen shield, dusting the snow off with one gloved hand.

“Yes, ser,” the wiry man saluted with a nervous glance down the line to see if the Commander witnessed his blunder.

“Show me how you were gripping it.” Handing the shield over, Rylen shook his head and stepped closer to Martin, adjusting his fingers until he was satisfied. “Feel more secure?”

“Yes, ser, much better,” Martin grinned. “Looks like I’ve got a long way to go.”

“We all start somewhere,” Rylen shrugged. “If you’re interested in extra training, hang back after drills are over. I’ll give you a few extra pointers that might help.”

“You’d do that? For me? But I’m just a, a-”

“A soldier under my command. And as such, I’d like to make sure you stay alive as long as possible,” the lieutenant replied firmly. “You’re no use to anyone dead, Martin.”

“I… Yes, ser!”

“Do you think I could join in as well, ser?” Another man crept up to the pair, one of the victims of the Commander’s barbed tongue earlier. 

“Don’t see why not. Long as you’re willing to put in the work, I’m more than happy to give anyone who needs it extra time,” Rylen responded.

In the end, six others decided to remain after the rest of the soldiers were dismissed for the day. Grabbing up a spare blunted sword and wooden shield, the Knight-Captain devoted the rest of his evening, and practically every evening after that, to sparring with his men, the number of recruits who elected to take advantage of his time only growing by the day.

“You see, Seeker?” Moving next to where Cassandra stood just outside of the Haven’s gates, her arms crossed across her chest, Cullen motioned to the field where his second patiently taught. “That’s why I chose him. He’s devoted to the cause and to those who serve under him, perhaps even more so than I. He is patient when I am not, more approachable, certainly, and skilled. There is no one more suited to be my second. In fact, in case I, well, you remember- I would recommend him as my replacement.”

“It will not come to that,” she sniffed, dragging her gaze away from the sight of the Starkhaven man and the intriguing way his sweat soaked tunic clung to his body. “But I shall keep it mind, Commander.”

**Author's Note:**

> CASSANDRA AND RYLEN FOREVERRRRRR.


End file.
